My Closest Friend
by Ben Barrett
Summary: Kyle struggles as he finds himself falling for Stan. Style. Oneshot. Mildly slashy.


**Dedication: **_**This story is dedicated to my good friend Jake, who lived this story before I ever wrote it. Thanks for everything. Que sera, sera.**_

* * *

**My Closest Friend**

_**By Ben Barrett**_

Kyle had always felt closer to Stan than anyone else, and that included his parents and his brother. He felt he could tell Stan anything, without fear of being judged or rejected. It was a sign of the relationship the two of them shared, and Kyle treasured it very deeply. That's why he found it so disturbing when he found himself falling for him.

It all started on the day that Kyle decided to confess to his friend that he was gay. He knew he could trust Stan with this and that he had nothing at all to fear. After all, if he couldn't tell the person he trusted more than anyone else in the world, who _could _he trust?

"Stan," he said, "we've been friends a long time, right?"

"Sure," Stan replied, "I guess."

They were sitting on the trunk of Stan's car in the middle of nowhere, staring up at the stars spread out across the velvety night sky. They often did this when they wanted to spend time together. Most of the time, they would spend hours talking about their troubles or some deep philosophical subject.

"I can tell you anything, right?" Kyle asked.

Stan cocked his eyebrow at him. They both knew the answer to this question; Kyle was just stalling. He actually would have found it funny if the situation hadn't seemed so serious. Kyle could be such a dork sometimes.

"Yeah, man," he said, placing a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Tell me what's up."

Kyle's little prepared speech about him coming to terms with who he was disappeared at his friend's touch. All his planning and rehearsing exactly what to say went right out the window and he felt himself melt inside.

"Well…" he said, trying to find the words, "I kind of….what I mean is….I felt I needed to…come out, and you're the person I trust the most."

"Come out?"

It didn't sink in right away. Stan sat there for a minute, chewing on Kyle's words, trying to figure out what he meant. It took full three seconds for the meaning of the phrase "come out" to hit home, but when it did his eyes went wide in surprise.

"Dude," he said, giving Kyle a goofy smile, "are you telling me you're…."

"Yes."

Stan looked down at the ground. He and Kyle had confided a lot to each other in the past, but for his friend to come to him with a secret so personal and potentially harmful was….touching.

"Wow," he said, looking over at him, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Kyle replied, smiling at him.

"Well," Stan said, taking a deep breath, "since we're being so honest with each other, I'm….actually….gay, too."

It was Kyle's turn to be speechless. Stan was the star athlete, the most popular boy in school, and eye candy for every girl in town. There were rumors that he had taken at least three cheerleaders to bed, and some versions of this nasty tale included one of them getting knocked up and having an abortion. He was, in other words, the last person anyone would ever vote Most Likely To Be Gay.

Kyle thought back over all the times he'd had with Stan. He remembered how they'd saved the world from the rule of Satan; how they'd fought off Mecha Streisand, mutant turkeys, and zombies; and how they'd saved each others' lives countless times. He loved his best friend a great deal more than he could express, and now, with this show of trust in him, that affection grew exponentially.

They looked at each other warmly for a minute, basking in the glow of a very tender moment between best friends, then turned back to the sky and began talking about constellations. There were no hugs, no declarations of how close they were, and no friendly arms over the shoulders. Stan and Kyle were past all of that; they knew how great their relationship was, and there was no need to express it.

* * *

Over the next week, Kyle began to feel something new for Stan. At first he shrugged it off as merely the aftereffects of an indescribably wonderful experience. However, after four days went by with no change, he began to wonder if his feelings toward his best friend had indeed changed. He prayed to Moses it wasn't true; he felt that allowing himself to fall for someone who had given such private information in confidence was being a bit…opportunistic. 

_I don't love Stan, _he told himself sternly. _Well, I do, but purely in a plutonic way._

His inner debate lasted well into the second week, and by that time he felt he was losing his mind. He found himself growing more short-tempered with every passing day, snapping at people for innocent things, such as bumping into him in the hallway. When his mother noticed this strange behavior, she tried to question him about it, but he simply shrugged her off and told her he was under a lot of pressure.

_I will not take advantage of Stan like that. What kind of friend would that make me? I refuse to acknowledge these feelings.  
_

Whether he wanted to acknowledge them or not, his growing adoration of Stan grew stronger and stronger, especially at times when his friend came to him for advice or just to talk. This show of trust strengthened their friendship, which in turn made Kyle more infatuated with him. This just enraged him more, because he was starting to feel like he was losing control of himself. Shouldn't he have some say over who he fell for? Shouldn't he be able to put a block on specific people to keep this kind of thing from happening?

"Sometimes you can't help who you love, Kyle," Kenny explained.

He had gone to the hooded boy for advice, completely at the end of his rope. He hadn't said who he seemed to be falling for, only that he was starting to become enamored with "someone" and that he had no control over it.

"Besides," Kenny continued, ""it's like Mr. Twig said once: 'Love isn't a decision, it's a feeling. If we could decide who we love, it would be much simpler, but much less magical.'"

"But I should be able to block," Kyle argued. "If I don't want to love someone _like that_, why should I?"

"Would it be so bad?" Kenny asked, raising an eyebrow. "You should be happy that you can care for someone so deeply, man. Embrace your feelings, don't try and fight them. You may find yourself feeling a whole lot better."

Kyle thought this over. He only fought against this feeling because he felt he was taking advantage of Stan, but that obviously wasn't true. He hadn't _meant _to fall for his friend; therefore it wasn't just him being opportunistic and selfish. No, he really _did _care for Stan. In fact, his affection for Stan was so deep, it seemed almost criminal for him to be struggling against it. How could something that beautiful be wrong?

"You…you're right, Kenny," he said. "Thank you so much."

"I do what I can," the other boy said, waving him off.

So it was that Kyle came to terms with his great love for his best friend. The only problem facing him now was to tell him or not tell him. He knew he had to take this decision seriously. If he chose not to express it, he might be missing out on something truly wonderful. On the other hand, telling Stan he was in love with him could blow up in his face. His confession of his homosexuality had been one thing; admitting to something this serious could destroy their friendship forever.

_Do I take that chance? _He thought. _Or do I just sit on my feelings forever?_

He was starting to think of love as a royal pain in the ass.

* * *

Kyle and Stan were sitting on the trunk of the car again, staring up at the night sky. Kyle wanted so badly to snuggle up against his friend, to feel his arms around him, holding him safe and warm. Of course, of all the things that _might _happen, he knew that most certainly would _not. _Behaving in such a fashion might scare Stan away from him, and that he could not take. 

"Dude, is there something bothering you?' Stan asked him.

"Why do you ask?" Kyle responded.

"You've been acting…different. I can't put my finger on _why, _but for some reason you definitely seem troubled."

Kyle smiled to himself. They'd known each other for so long; he should have guessed that Stan would read him like a book. It really wasn't possible for them to keep any secrets from each other.

"Yes, there's been something bothering me for several days now," Kyle admitted, "but I…can't talk about it right now."

"Dude…"

"No, Stan," he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready to discuss this with anyone."

God, things were happening faster than he'd expected them to. Stan was on to him, and if he didn't watch what he said, he'd figure it out before the night was over. On the other hand, that _would _be an effective way of letting him know. If he dropped just enough hints, Stan would take care of the rest.

"Tell you what," Kyle said, smirking slightly, "come back out here with me tomorrow. I'll tell you then. I promise."

Over the next hour, he toyed with him, hoping he'd buy a vowel and solve the puzzle. Any time he felt the conversation drifting in a direction which he couldn't use to drop hints, he'd bring up something else. He didn't know if this was right or not, but he thought it was, at the very least, a way to break it to him gently. Perhaps if Stan suddenly "guessed" that his best friend liked him, he wouldn't take it as hard.

_Besides, I'm a fucking coward, _Kyle thought bitterly, _and I can't stand the idea of losing my closest friend._

The strategy seemed to work however, for at the end of the night Kyle was getting some very strange and suspicious looks.

"Why are you looking at me that way, Stan?" he asked.

"I'm just concerned about you," Stan replied. "You're acting _really _funny tonight."

"I told you I'd tell you why I'm acting this way _tomorrow,_" Kyle reiterated, "unless you'd like to hazard a guess."

"No, Kyle," his friend said, shaking his head, "either tell me or don't. I mean, I think I have an idea, but…"

"Take a guess, if you think you know. Go ahead. I'm not gonna get mad at you."

_Perfect_, Kyle thought happily, _now he'll find out._

Stan didn't answer right away, though. He looked away from Kyle and out toward the stars, a serious and upset expression on his face. This frightened the young Jew, for it meant that this whole situation could _still _blow up in his face, even after all he'd done to try and prevent it.

"I think you might _like _me, Kyle," Stan said, not looking at him.

"God damn it," Kyle replied, feigning annoyance, "how'd you know?"

Stan jerked his head around, and there was fire in his eyes.

"So it's true?"

"It's true," Kyle admitted softly, swallowing hard. There would be no going back now. Whatever was going to happen would happen. _Que sera, sera._

"I'm flattered, Kyle," Stan said, "but you should know that there _is _someone else."

He felt his world cave in. All he had been through had been for nothing. All this emotional turmoil, all this strife; it had gotten him nowhere. His closest friend was interested in someone, but it wasn't him. What the hell kind of cosmic joke was this? Was God having a little fun at his expense or was there really a lesson to be learned in all of this?

"I'm sorry, Stan," he said. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I….want you to know that I wish you all the happiness in the world."

"Hey," Stan replied, placing a hand on Kyle's shoulder, "listen to me. Don't ever be ashamed of your feelings, okay? It's really cool that someone cares that much. I'm…really glad I found out."

Kyle nodded, knowing that it would _not _be okay. Still, it was important that he put on a happy face for _him_.

"I'll always be there for you, Kyle," Stan told him gently. "This doesn't change anything. I'll always be your friend."

He knew without a doubt that this was the absolute truth. Stan had accepted his sexuality and his amorous feelings without question. Their friendship was not, nor had it ever been, in danger. They were closer now than they'd ever been.

"You too, Stan," he said, "and make sure to tell what's-his-name that I said he's the luckiest person in the world."

They smiled affectionately at each other, then turned away to look at sky, for they knew that nothing further needed to be said.

_**Fin**_


End file.
